


Born to Run

by RandomReader13



Category: Baby Driver (2017), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Driver AU, Catherine is dealing with going deaf, Deaf Character, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Baby Driver, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Jason Todd is Not Robin, Jason is doing his best, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, badass music, but I highly recommend the movie because it is amazing, getaway driver au, you do not need to watch Baby Driver to read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21836881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomReader13/pseuds/RandomReader13
Summary: What if tires weren't enough for Jason Todd?Getaway driver AUYou do not have to have seen Baby Driver to read
Relationships: Catherine Todd & Jason Todd, Roman Sionis & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown/Jason Todd
Comments: 76
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Baby Driver and was instantly hooked. I read all of the gen fics on this site the same night. It's brilliant, go watch it.
> 
> Two things from the movie you should know: 1. people keep calling Jason "Baby" because everyone in the group gets a nickname and that's his. 2. he uses music to drown out his tinnitus.

Jason tapped a rapid tattoo on the steering wheel, bobbing his head in time to the music blasting in his ears. An alarm screamed from inside the bank and he shifted into drive, engine revving as he tapped his foot impatiently on the gas. The doors to the gray Subaru flew open, bodies colliding with bags of cash, and Jason slammed the gas, the doors slamming shut from the force.

 _Jenny will you stay_ , he mouthed as the car screeched around a corner, wheels smoking. Sirens wailed behind them and he glanced in the rearview mirror. Two cruisers. Huh, guess GCPD had been working on their response time. As the singing shifting to rapid drums, Jason yanked the emergency brake, shifting gears and skidding in a full 180. He narrowly cut off a red minivan, swerving between lanes before the car stabilized. Flask shot out his window, making one of the cop cars swerve away, but the other managed to make the U-turn. Jason’s eyes flicked up, eyeing the distance his move had gained them, before skidding around another turn, gunning for the parkway. Six lanes of traffic, four times more likely to lose them.

The instrumentals took over as Jason roared up an exit ramp, cars swerving and honking angrily. Wasp hissed from the backseat and Jason spared a glance at the mirror as the man emptied his clip out the back window. His mouth tightened as the police cruiser veered to one side, slamming into another car, and he focused on the road again. The music swelled, clashing cymbals and guitar riffs vying for his attention, and he yanked the wheel to one side, sending them flying across three lanes of traffic. He jerked hard on the emergency brake, tires screaming as he reversed around the concrete median. Someone screeched from the backseat and Pal swore violently, leaning out the passenger window to fire at a third police car that had just shot up an entrance ramp, but Jason’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, knuckles white on the steering wheel as the car hurtled backward. The electric guitar screamed in his ears, taking over the drums entirely, and he hit the break and twisted the wheel again, spinning the car around so they were once more facing forward. The drums joined back in as the car flew down an exit ramp. Jason bobbed his head absent-mindedly as he wove through the crowded streets, bumping up onto the sidewalk when there were no pedestrians.

Pal jerked off her jacket and mask, stuffing them in the footwell and straightening her green button-down. Jason glanced in the rearview mirror. No cops, at least not on their tail. He swerved into a parking garage, Wasp cursing him out as he banged his funny bone. The final clash of cymbals came as Jason slid into a parking spot. They bailed out, running to the waiting Toyota Corolla. Flask took the driver’s seat, Jason and Pal diving into the back and ducking low. One of the bags of loot was jabbing Jason in the side, but he didn’t try to move it, holding perfectly still as Flask casually pulled out onto the road, taking side streets back to headquarters and never going over the speed limit. Cruiser after cruiser shot past them, sirens wailing, and Jason let the satisfaction from a job well done fill him as the first notes of Harlem Shuffle piped through his headphones and they pulled into the safe house’s parking garage.

“Nice job you fuckin’ maniac,” Flask said, ruffling his hair. Jason ducked out of the way, grinning and pushing his sunglasses back up his nose.

“Maniac is right,” Wasp muttered, slamming his door.

Pal rolled her eyes, jabbing the call button for the elevator. “Oh please, you’re just sore you can’t keep up with Baby here.”

 _Yeah_ , Jason thought as he slid into his normal spot at the back of the elevator, _job well fucking done_. His hand tapped his thigh to the beat and he leaned his head against the wall.

The feeling of contentment lasted until the elevator doors opened and Jason got a look at Mask’s face. His jaw tightened automatically and he straightened his shoulders. The others didn’t seem to notice the tension running down Mask’s arms, the way he held his neck a shade straighter than usual. Someone fucked up. Jason wasn’t sure who or how, but he knew someone was going to get it. He hoped it was Wasp. Mask went through the usual after-job rundown, counting out cash and splitting their takes into duffle bags. Jason’s eyes followed every twitch of his fingers, waiting for them to go to his gun, to pull the trigger, to splatter someone’s brains all over the concrete-

Someone ruffled his hair, knocking his shades down his nose again. Jason blinked and nodded as Flask headed into the elevator, probably off to buy his weight in liquor. Wasp followed, bag swinging jauntily. Jason’s heart rose in his throat. That left only Pal ...who shot him a smile before getting in the elevator herself. Jason nodded at her too, suddenly noticing the buzzing in his ears was louder than usual. He reached for his iPod.

It looked like he hadn’t imagined Mask’s anger after all, Jason thought as his wrist was grabbed and his chest slammed against the table. He grimaced as Mask jerked at his hair, his arm pinned painfully against his back. One of his earbuds had fallen out and his glasses were on the very tip of his nose. Mask shook Jason’s head roughly and Jason forced himself to focus past the static on the words being hissed at him.

“-even hearing a word I say?”

“‘m sorry, sir,” he said, voice strained. He didn’t like this, didn’t like the feeling of his cheek being ground into the table, didn’t like the way his arm was trapped behind his back, didn’t like the way he could feel Mask’s weight bearing down on him, keeping him pinned. “Could you repeat that?” His head slammed into the table, glasses snapping.

“I _asked_ ,” Mask snarled, “what the _hell_ this is.” The hand in his hair disappeared and a phone was shoved in Jason’s face. He blinked until his eyes focused and he could read the headline, look at the picture underneath it. His heart sank.

“That is a picture from a traffic cam,” he said, mouth dry. Mask twisted his arm harder and Jason’s breath hitched.

“I know that.” Mask’s voice suddenly went very soft, almost gentle. Jason tried not to shudder. This voice was infinitely more dangerous than the furious yelling of a moment ago. “Care to tell me what it is a picture _of_ , Baby?”

Jason swallowed. “Me.” The word fell out like a tumbleweed, seemingly innocent but, when paired with the furious flame that was Black Mask, could start a wildfire.

“Yes, it’s you.” Mask abruptly released his arm, backing up. Jason slowly stood up, scooping up the broken shades and tucking them in his pocket. He left his one earbud hanging, not daring to breathe. Mask was pinching his nose. Jason wasn’t sure how well that worked, what with the mask and all, but he wasn’t about to ask. The ringing in his ears was getting harder to ignore and he inched his hand towards his iPod. Mask looked at him and Jason froze, thumb poised over the click wheel. Mask waved a hand, back to his normal in-control demeanor. “Go ahead, kid.”

Jason cautiously spun to a random song and selected it. Nowhere to Run by Boga started playing and he grimaced. A bit on the nose. He tucked the iPod away, eyeing Mask nervously. Mask eyed him back, hands on hips. The silence stretched between them.

“You can lose the look, I’m not going to kill you,” Mask finally said, sounding exasperated. “You’re much too valuable for that.” He turned away, walking back to the head of the table. He picked up a model car, examining it for a moment before flicking it away. Jason watched it fly end-over-end to smash to the floor. Mask was staring at him again. Jason shifted. Mask steepled his fingers, tapping them against his lips. Or where his lips should have been.

“You’re my lucky charm, Baby,” he finally said. “You’ve been on every job, and pulled off every one.”

“Yes sir,” Jason said. He hated the way his voice croaked, giving away his nerves.

“Shut up.” Mask sat back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach. “You’ve been working for me for a decade. And that’s the only reason I’m letting this slide.” Jason’s knees went weak from relief. Mask must have noticed because his voice sharpened and he held up one finger. “ _But_.” Jason stiffened again. “Fuck up like this again and you’ll regret it.”

“Yes sir.”

Mask stood. “Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He picked up the two duffle bags of cash. Jason followed him to the elevator. He was about to leave the garage when Mask called after him, “And Baby.” Jason turned slowly, hiding the way his jaw twitched at the moniker. Mask was looking out his window, elbow propped on the door. “I’ve added another job to your debt. Consider it payment for the covering up of that photo I’m going to have to do.” Jason nodded and Mask shut his window, pulling away into the darkening evening. Jason’s finger tapped on his thigh, unease crawling under his skin. The song came to an end. _Got nowhere to hide_.

* * *

The grocery store was quiet at this time of night, only thirty minutes ‘til closing. One of the employees shot him an annoyed look, but Marcy smiled. “Hey there, Jason.”

“Hey, Marcy. Got anything good for me today?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “Go do your shopping.”

Jason let a smirk ghost across his face and waved a hand as he disappeared into the stacks. It only took him ten minutes to gather what he needed, he had memorized the layout of this place years ago. Marcy rang him up. “How’s your week been?”

“Not bad, just finished another job. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain. Corporate decided we needed to switch one of our canned bean suppliers so we’ve been busy switching out the stock.” Marcy shook her head. “I’ll be glad to go home, my feet are killing me.”

“I can imagine. How long until your shift ends?”

Marcy glanced at the clock, which had been twenty minutes off since Jason started coming here. “Hour and fifteen.”

“Good luck,” Jason said, grabbing his bags. “You got this.”

“Say hi to your mama for me, huh?” Marcy called as he headed for the door. Jason waved in acknowledgment. He had one more stop to make.

* * *

Jason unlocked the apartment door, nudging it open with one foot, arms busy balancing bags of groceries. The tv was a low hum in the background as he edged around the second-hand furniture to put his haul on the counter. “Hey mom,” he signed once his hands were free, smiling hopefully. Catherine stared back at him, making no effort to respond. Jason’s smile faded but he forced it back. “I got clam chowder,” he signed, holding up the container. “It’s from Annie’s. Just made this morning.” He grabbed a pot from under the counter. “She was really happy to see me,” he continued, hands moving in time to his music. “Said she added extra onions to this one, just for you.” No response. Jason’s hands faltered, but he powered through, opening the container and putting the pot on the stove. He turned on the burner and paused for a moment, bracing his arms on the counter. He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet melody for a moment before turning back around. “Have you been in here all day? You know your doctor said a change of scenery would be good for you. I shouldn’t have work tomorrow, maybe we could go to the park? Would you like that?”

Catherine stared at him for a long moment before slowly pushing herself out of her chair and staggering towards her bedroom. Jason bolted forward as she lurched, wrapping his arm around her. She was stiff and pushed him away as soon as they reached the wall, shuffling along with short, pained steps. Jason watched her go, chest aching. She had been in a lot of pain for a long while, the prescribed drugs barely took the edge off and he refused to buy heroin. It wasn’t good for her, and they both knew it, but it was hard to remember when she was shaking like a leaf. The chemo was supposed to be helping, but so far all it had done was suck the last strength from her limbs and steal her hearing. Jason went to stir the chowder.

He poked his head in the door a few minutes later, chewing on his lip when he spotted the lump under the covers. He slowly walked forward, angling himself so he’d come into her sightline as soon as possible. Her eyes flicked open and she leveled him with a glare, but at least it wasn’t the apathy of before. Jason held up the bowl hopefully. She stared at him for a long moment and Jason felt his strong front cracking. He was about to turn to leave when she sat up, slumping tiredly against the headboard. Jason brightened and carefully placed the bowl in her hands. “Be right back,” he signed quickly, darting from the room to grab his own bowl. He sat at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, and matched her spoon for spoon. She scowled harder when she realized what he was doing, but she finished the bowl. Jason took it from her and put them in the sink. By the time he made it back to the room, she had fallen asleep, still slumped awkwardly on her pillows. Jason sighed and carefully shifted her to a more comfortable position. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, pressing the sign for “I love you” into her shoulder before turning off the light.

The tv was still droning in the background as he entered the living room again. Jason glanced at it as he flipped up the rug and pulled off the loose board. He froze, the wad of cash held tightly in his hand, as the picture that had nearly spelled his doom appeared on the screen. Glancing around, he quickly stuffed the cash into the hole and replaced the board and rug. He went over to the windows, snapping the curtains shut as if he expected Batman himself to come swinging through. He paced back and forth in front of the tv. The report was the usual stuff, four suspects, larger string of heists, speculation on which crime lord might be pulling the strings. But this time, all of that was touched upon only briefly, the newscaster focusing on the picture they had gotten of him. Jason sat down hard on the armchair. It was a damn good picture, even with the speeds he was hitting. His song ended just in time for the reporter to say, “-from a camera installed as part of the Wayne Foundation’s attempts to improve the Downtown area-”

Jason’s fists tightened. A heavy bass started in his ears. The Wayne Foundation. Of course. Fucking fancy-ass rich bastards messing around in Lower Gotham where they didn’t belong and certainly weren’t wanted. Jason shoved himself up from his chair, snatching his jacket as he headed out the door. He was on the roof minutes later, retrieving his stash of cigarettes from behind a crumbling brick. He lit up and inhaled deeply. The irony of his preventing his mom’s addiction while allowing his own habit to go unchecked was not lost on him, but now wasn’t the time to think about it, when his hands were shaking out of time and he desperately wanted to hit something. He took another deep drag and felt his nerves settle a little. A single brave star peeked through the smog that covered Gotham like a shroud, and Jason flicked the butt of his smoke over the side of the building. Making wishes was for kids from Midtown or the rich fucks in Uptown or Bristol, but just for a moment he wished he could go back in time, stop himself from stealing that fucking Mercedes. It was a stupid wish. Would his mom be this way if he had never met Mask? Would she be worse? Dead? Where would he be? Probably not in a decent apartment with cash tucked away under the floorboards. No, he had it good, considering. And he was almost done. Two more jobs.

Jason turned to go back inside.

Two more jobs.

He peeked in at his mom, making sure she was still asleep, before heading out into the night. Marcy was waiting for him four blocks away from the grocery store, an old cart from the dollar store on the corner filled with cans of beans.

“Damn,” he said, sneakers scuffing as he kicked an old bottle away. “They really throwing away that much?”

Marcy nodded, scowling. “Won’t even notice this batch missing from the pile. Corporate pigs.” She spat on the ground.

Jason clapped her shoulder. “Well at least this won’t go to waste. Thank you for doing this, Marcy. I know it’s a risk-”

“None’a that,” she cut him off. “We’ve had this conversation enough times, Jason.”

Jason grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am.”

She hiked her purse -- which he knew for a fact had a brick in it -- higher up her shoulder. “Get moving, boy. Haven’t you been paying attention to the news? Cops bound to be crawling.”

Jason grinned cockily. “Ah, I’ll be fine.”

“You better be,” she said, heading for the mouth of the alley. “Or I’ll track you down and make you wish they’d locked you up tighter.”

Jason laughed. “Take care, Marcy.”

He waited a few minutes to let her get good and away before pushing the cart to the mouth of the alley and peeking out. All clear. He made it down another two blocks before stopping in another alley next to a condemned building. He reached through the boards to rap on one of the few intact windows. A long few moments passed before a small head finally popped up. “Jay,” a quiet voice whispered.

Jason smiled. “Hey TJ. I’ve got some beans for ya.”

TJ stuck a hand out through a broken frame and Jason gave him a can. After a moment of examination, TJ nodded and hissed something over his shoulder. Jason waited patiently. The bottom of the boarded-up door to his left swung up. Jason crouched down near the makeshift dog door and started pushing cans through the gap. They were whisked out of view immediately. Jason kept pushing cans through until the door swung down in his face. He stood up and went back to his cart, leaving the alley immediately. He combed the neighborhood, stopping by the old park where the gang kids hung out and the bridge where the homeless gathered. He kept going until he ran out of cans, and then went to visit the working girls.

Candy saw him immediately and beamed. “Jay!” She kissed both his cheeks. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Jason said. “But good.” He pulled a wad of hundreds out of his pocket, half of the stack Mask had given him that day, and quietly pushed them into her hands. “I don’t have time to make the rounds,” he said, tilting his head so it was close to her ear, “but I’m sure you can make sure these go where they’re needed.”

She wrapped him in a hug, using the motion to tuck the money away in her bra. “Aren’t you just the sweetest. How’s your ma?”

Jason shrugged, looking away.

Candy’s face fell. “Aw, Jay. I’m sorry. You’re doin’ your best, remember that okay? It’s on her to put in th’ effort too, don’t go beatin’ yourself up.”

“Thanks, Candy,” he said quietly. “I gotta get back to her. Good luck tonight.”

“You’ve given me all the luck I need, Jay. Go get some rest. I’ll make sure everyone’s in okay.”

Jason nodded and waved, disappearing back into the maze of streets that was The Bowery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably continue this  
> Fans of the movie might recognize the song choices! I hope I captured the feel of the beat and movement being in time.  
> Also, while Mask is in the same role as Doc, he's obviously more...rough towards Jason than Doc was towards Baby. Black Mask is a volatile character.  
>  My Tumblr 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who kudos/commented! I didn't expect much/any interaction at all and you all have absolutely delighted me.
> 
> oh uh, potential warning for child abuse I guess? Jason references his mom using a wooden spoon on him when he was younger.

Jason was at the park trying to coax a smile -- or a frown, or a twitch, or...anything -- from his mom when the burner rings. He pulls it out, stomach twisting. “Hello?”

“Safehouse, fifteen minutes.”

“Today?” Jason couldn’t stop the startled exclamation.

“Yes, that’s generally what fifteen minutes is understood to mean,” Mask said, voice smooth.

“I- I’m with my mom, we’re at the park-” Mask already knew every detail of Jason’s life, there was no reason to hide that fact from him.

A hint of impatience entered the man’s voice. “Twenty minutes, then. Don’t be late.”

Jason stared at the blank phone, stomach twisting. He looked up at his mom. She was staring into space, hands folded in her lap rather than touch the wheelchair. “Mom,” he said, touching her arm. He flinched at the slip but she didn’t notice. She barely turned her head towards him. “Something’s come up,” he signed. “I’m really, really sorry but we have to go back to the apartment. I have a job.”

Her face twisted into a familiar scowl, and his heart jumped. “You. Drive. Mask,” she signed, hesitant with the shapes but forceful in tone.

Jason winced. He knew she didn’t approve. She’d never approved, and Jason still had a healthy fear of wooden spoons from the time she had found out what his ‘after school job’ really was. He’d learned to wait until she was high as a kite to pay off the bills or the collectors that banged on the door, because there was no way she would allow him to use his cut. He didn’t really understand it. Willis hadn’t exactly been working a 9-5 either. Apparently it was different when it was her child, or at least that’s what he had picked up on from her many lectures. But there was no time to be coy and play this off as something else. “I’m sorry,” he signed. And he meant it.

Catherine tapped one finger on the wheelchair. He wasn’t sure why she was getting upset about this today, she had barely noticed his departure yesterday. But despite her disapproval, Jason felt hopeful. She was paying attention, she was showing interest, even if it was negative. “Fine,” she signed slowly. “Home dinner. Else.” She narrowed her eyes in clear warning.

Jason felt a tiny smile pull at the corner of his mouth. She may have been a head shorter and in a wheelchair, but God help him if she got her hand on that damn spoon. “Yes ma’am.” He glanced at his burner phone. “We have to hurry, I have fifteen minutes.”

Catherine shook her head, making the face she always made when talking about Mask. “Fucker.” Jason froze and then grinned in delight. She had spoken! She had actually spoken! Catherine had avoided talking since she couldn’t hear herself anymore, but she just did! This had to be progress, the doctor was definitely right about a change in scenery. His smile faded, though, as she shut down in front of his eyes.

“Mom?” he signed cautiously. She didn’t reply. Her hands were clasped in her lap again, eyes vacant. Jason tried valiantly to hold on to the positives. She had engaged with him, had seemed more like her old self, and had even talked. Definite progress, she deserved to rest. Or whatever it was she was doing. He pushed her home quickly, endlessly grateful that they lived so close to the park, turned on the tv, left her a plate of crackers and cheese as well as a blanket, and bolted out the door with a quick peck on the top of her head.

He made it to the hideout with seven seconds to spare. His sides ached from the run and he struggled to calm his breathing as everyone turned to stare at him.

“How lovely of you to join us, Baby,” Mask said dryly. He dropped his arm -- the one with the watch he had definitely been timing Jason with -- and turned to the board, which already had a map and pictures on it. Jason dropped into the chair at the far end of the table, thumb spinning over the click wheel to change his rapid-paced running song to a more calm one. The job was simple enough; another day another robbery, this time a jewelry store that was in a better part of the city than Jason was really comfortable with. Most of the places they hit were in Midtown, which was reputable enough to have Mask’s kind of targets, but not as heavily protected as Uptown. But this time, Mask was going bigger. Hendrickson’s Jewelers was in Uptown proper, not even the edges. Jason’s fingers tapped the table out of sync with his music. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Any questions?” Mask asked, as he always did. Jason hesitated and Mask noticed, of course. “Baby?”

Jason swallowed. God he was an idiot, he was already in hot water, why the fuck would he show any doubt _now_ of all days? “Um.” The rest of the table had turned to stare at him. Jason took a deep breath and forced his voice to be steady. Mask hated stuttering. “I was just wondering if today is the best time for such a high-profile target. Especially after...yesterday.”

Mask leaned against the table casually. “Ah yes, yesterday. You mean when you got your picture taken by a traffic camera and blew the anonymity we’ve kept in place for a decade.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. He knew this was a bad idea. “Yes, sir,” he said stiffly.

“Well.” Mask stood and brushed his suit off. He leisurely walked around the table until he was behind Jason. His hand gripped the back of Jason’s neck. It was….weirdly paternal for a moment but Jason knew better than to trust it. Sure enough, the man said, “ _I_ think it’s a perfect chance for you to redeem yourself. Wouldn’t you agree?” and his hand tightened like a vice.

Jason didn’t flinch. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“That’s quite alright,” Mask said, dropping his hand after one final, painful squeeze. “It’s important to get any doubts out of the way before we begin. Now then,” he clapped his hands and checked his watch. “It’s time for you all to move out.” There was the general clattering of chair being pushed out and quiet talking as the group made their way to the elevator. Jason hesitated for a moment before following, but Mask made no move to stop him or punish him further for his impertinence. Jason joined the elevator gratefully, not even complaining when Wasp, who was still sore after yesterday, ‘accidentally’ elbowed him hard in the ribs.

The job was...a barely-mitigated disaster. First Britches had taken too fucking long to disable the alarm system and the whole building lit up in flashing red lights. Then Wasp had fired a shot at the security guard that was so close to Gondor’s head that the two men had been on the verge of a brawl in the middle of the store. Jason stared with mounting horror. What were they _doing_? Someone was definitely catching a bullet tonight. Thankfully, he wasn’t responsible for anything in the store. But things didn’t improve once he had peeled away from the store, a whole fifteen seconds behind schedule. Jason grimaced and forced the car to even more dangerous speeds than usual, gaze constantly flicking up to the whopping _five_ cruisers racing after them. Wasp and Gondor were arguing fiercely in the back seat and Jason spared two seconds to turn up the volume on his iPod. Didn’t they know he had to fucking focus?!

He managed to lose two of the three cruisers, but those three remained hot on his heels while Kenny Loggins sang in his headphones. He was well-aware he was in the danger zone, thanks. Was that a fucking chopper?! Jason swore violently and peeled down another side street as the guitars shredded. There weren’t any small alleys in the ‘nice’ parts of the city and even the smaller roads were wide enough that he couldn’t lose them through some quick dodging. This was why he didn’t like Uptown!!

“Get us out of here, Baby!” Britches yelled.

Jason resisted the urge to point out that this was mostly his fault, instead snapping. “Put your fucking seatbelt on!” The benefit of not talking much, he reflected as the two idiotic passengers who hadn’t done so as soon as they got into the car immediately moved to obey, was that people listened a hell of a lot more when you did get around to it. The drums came back in with an insistent beat and Jason gritted his teeth. He tore through an intersection, weaving around cars and losing another cruiser. They were so behind schedule! Thankfully they were getting closer to Midtown, where the roads weren’t quite as conducive to high-speed chases and he would have a better chance of losing their pursuers entirely. Not to mention that fucking chopper, he remembered as another two cruisers exploded out of side streets ahead of him. They were so fucked. Jason pressed the gas harder into the floor, spinning the wheel as they crested a rise. His passengers all screamed as the car actually left the ground, but they made the turn. Only the last cruiser in the line managed to follow, and it had to slow down dramatically in order to do so. Jason grinned, a hint maniacally, and screamed through the streets, weaving and dodging at breakneck speed and breathing a sigh of relief when they finally drew near the border to Midtown. The smile dropped off his face when he saw the police barricade blocking the road. He swore and jerked the car to the right, racing for the next turn, but there was a blockade there as well. Was every damn cop in the city chasing them?!

Two cruisers had caught onto their trail, and Jason closed his eyes as he hit yet another road-spike-and-cruiser-filled dead end. “Prep to bail!” he bellowed, unfastening his seatbelt with one hand as the other whipped them around another turn.

“ _What_?!” his three companions yelled.

“Jason screeched into a sharp U-turn, shooting past the cops on their tail. “Prep to bail!” he repeated, pulling his headphones out and tucking the iPod as deeply in his pocket as possible. It probably wouldn't survive. “Ready?!”

“ _No_!”

Jason watched the speedometer creep upwards. He felt weirdly calm, only the ringing in his ears making it through his haze of concentration. “Three!” he yelled, as they slammed through the first row of spikes. The car screamed but he didn’t let up on the gas. “Two!” He forced the car to continue straight towards his target: a cruiser that was slightly out of formation with the others. “Brace!” They slammed into the car, metal screeching and paint flying, but Jason twisted the wheel and kept his foot pinned to the floor, and they made it through. Barely, but they did. “ _One_! _Bail_!” He threw open his door, which snapped off upon contact with a parked car, and dove out, rolling to his feet and taking off as fast as possible into the slightly-better-for-hiding side streets of Midtown. Gunshots popped behind him, but he was fast on his feet as well as behind the wheel, and he scrambled around enough corners and finally up a fire escape to allow himself to take a vital breather, sprawled out full-length on some rooftop, chest heaving and sweat dripping off his face. He was infinitely glad he did not have to carry a bag of jewelry on top of everything. He was also incredibly thankful that the sun was still blazing down, which meant there was no chance an asshole with a cape and a hero complex would pounce on him.

He stayed on the roof for fifteen minutes, which felt like an eternity. He had run many, many jobs that took less than fifteen minutes to finish, especially during the middle of his career, where he was skilled enough to pull it off and the cops weren’t as interested yet. It felt longer because of the ringing in his ears -- his iPod had shattered upon impact, and his fingers twitched randomly without a beat to guide them. When he judged the chase had moved on, he stripped out of his sweater, dumping it in a corner, and discarded his glasses as well. They hadn’t made the jump either, and he winced as the sunlight stabbed at his eyes. He spit on his hands and slicked his hair up into a wild, spiky mess, very different from his usual neat hairstyle. He had caught some flack for the childishness of his hair as he grew older, but it was what his mom had always given him as a kid and he didn’t care enough to change it. Besides, his nickname was literally ‘Baby’, might as well lean into the theme.

Jason scrambled down the ladder and set off cautiously through the streets. Every sound had him ducking for cover, and he spent several minutes wedged behind a dumpster in a gap much too small for him, waiting for a small group of cops to move past. When he reached the shopping area, though, he loosened his posture, shoved his hands in his pockets, and strolled down the street. He soon found some college students and attached himself to the fringe of their group, close enough that an outsider would likely accept him as one of them, but far away enough that they didn’t notice. Jason felt his lip curling in disgust but forced a vaguely cheerful smile instead. Anyone from Lower Gotham would pick up on this trick immediately. Fucking privileged assholes who didn’t know how good they had it, just walking down the street without a care in the world. Whatever. Their naivety was good for him.

It took him five hours of frequent back- and sidetracking to reach the safe house, which was positioned right on the border between Midtown and Lower Gotham. Jason dragged himself into the elevator and nearly collapsed when the door opened. He dropped heavily into his chair and wished to all that was holy that he was home right then. Even if he had definitely missed dinner and was in for a hell of a lecture, that was better than waiting for Mask to show up and-

A hand grabbed his chin and his tired eyes met Mask’s dark ones. They stared at each other for a long few moments, and normally Jason would be freaking out but he was too damn tired. Mask finally released him, shoving his face away and marching angrily back and forth. “Gondor and Wasp have returned,” he said. “Britches is still missing.” Jason knew that if Britches made it back he would be greeted with a bullet to the head. He found that he didn’t care as much as he normally would. Mask saw this and his eyes grew thoughtful. He placed the new burner on the table. “Go home, Baby. You’ll get your cut in a few days.”

Jason nodded carelessly and stood. “Thank you, sir,” he said mechanically. “Have a good evening, sir.”

The trip home was a blur, and he practically fell into the apartment. Catherine was waiting, furious scowl on her face, but it shifted to concern when she saw the state he was in. She struggled to stand and went over to him, carefully cradling his face. He couldn’t meet the sorrow in her eyes. “Food, then bed,” she said softly, and his head jerked in surprise. Catherine looked deeply uncomfortable, but she didn’t dissociate again, instead hooking one arm around his elbow and trying to help him across the room. After a moment of thought, she lowered him into the wheelchair. He protested, seeing the subtle trembling of her limbs, but she narrowed her eyes and he stopped. He wheeled himself over to the table at her insistence and swallowed a few bites of food, then she followed him to his bedroom, where he didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, merely dragging himself out of the wheelchair and onto the covers before passing out.

Catherine brushed his sweaty, spiked hair back and removed his shoes. She sat in the wheelchair and fetched their only spare blanket from in front of the tv. She was nowhere near strong enough to get him under the covers, but she would be damned if he woke up cold on her watch. Jason didn’t stir once throughout her ministrations, and she watched him for a long few minutes. A tear traced its way down her cheek and she reached forward, carefully forming the sign for ‘I love you’ and pressing it into Jason’s shoulder. “My boy,” she whispered. It still hurt, the lack of sound when she could feel her vocal cords humming, the breath of air past her lips, but when she whispered she could pretend she was just so quiet not even she could hear it. “My beautiful boy,” she repeated. Jason didn’t move, breathing slow and deep, as she carefully leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Another tear streaked down her face, and there was no question in her next statement, only pained resignation: “What have I let you get yourself into.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from_winter_or_river asked if this was going to remain gen or have a pairing and I automatically said gen because that's my default but...I'm not so sure now that I've been thinking about it. If there is a pairing it'll be JaySteph but we'll have to see! Either way it'll remain PG lol  
>  My Tumblr 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has commented and kudosed!

Jason fiddled with the sugar packets, arranging them by color in neat rows. He glanced up automatically as the bell over the door jangled, taking stock of the blonde girl who was waving at Hattie before going back to his sugar packets, gathering them up and sorting them back into their bowls, the clinking of ceramic muffled under the cheerful song piping through his headphones. A body entered his periphery vision and Jason glanced up. It wasn’t Hattie like he had expected, and he slowly pulled out one earbud.

“Hi there!” the blonde girl said, flashing a grin.

“Hi,” Jason said warily.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? Literally every other seat is full.” Jason glanced around the diner. He had been there for a while, and she was right, the place was packed. He looked back at the girl, blinking when he realized she hadn’t waited for an answer, already sitting in the booth opposite him. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Stephanie.”

Jason slowly reached out and shook it. “Jay.”

“Nice to meet you, Jay.”

He nodded. They stared at each other for a moment. Stephanie was still smiling. She gestured at his chocolate milkshake. “Milkshake, huh? Man after my own heart!”

Hattie came bustling over and Jason felt the invisible band around his chest loosen. She would know how to get this girl to move. The woman put down Jason’s club sandwich and turned to Stephanie. “What can I get for you?” Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. There was an innocent smile on Hattie’s face that he didn’t trust for a second.

Stephanie didn’t bother looking at the menu. “I’ll get the waffles, please. And a vanilla milkshake.”

“Sure thing, hon.” Hattie scribbled the order down on her notepad and turned back to the kitchen. She caught Jason’s pleading look and winked. Jason stared after her, betrayed. Stephanie glanced at her phone before putting it face-down on the table and looking at him again. He awkwardly smiled back and picked up a french fry.

“This place has the best waffles on the planet,” Stephanie said abruptly. Jason blinked. The silence stretched.

“Club sandwiches are good too,” he said finally, picking his up. Was it rude to eat when she didn’t have her food yet? Was it more rude to just stare at her? Did the rules of politeness count when she had invited herself to sit at his table?

“Sooo…” Stephanie traced her finger on the table, chipped nail polish glinting. “You come here often?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

She nodded. “You live nearby? It’s a bit of a hike for me but s’worth it. I pop in whenever I can find the time.”

Jason nodded.

There was a long moment of silence. Jason fidgeted with his headphone wire, twisting it around his finger. He was just about to say fuck it and put his earbud back in when the girl spoke again: “Whatchya listening to?”

Jason paused. “Um.” He had stolen this iPod only a week ago and hadn’t had a chance to memorize all the songs yet. He fished it out of his pocket. “Jason Mraz. Have It All.”

“Oh, I love that song!”

Jason hummed. “It’s catchy.”

“And the message is great.” Hattie came over and put down Stephanie’s milkshake. “Thanks!”

“No problem, hon.” Hattie once more ignored Jason’s silent plea for help, going to deliver drinks to a party three booths over.

“They’ve got great service too,” Stephanie said, jumping back to their previous discussion without pause. She opened her straw and jabbed it into her milkshake. “You know? Really homey feeling.”

Jason thought back to Thanksgivings and Christmases spent dipping fries in milkshakes and helping Hattie roll napkins, his mom’s humming a constant in the background as she swept or wiped glasses. “Yeah. Real homey.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Stephanie asked, propping her chin on her hand. Jason shrugged. “That’s okay. I can talk enough for both of us.” She must have taken his lack of response as permission, because she just...kept talking, going on about how her boss was a maniac who refused to understand that she had another job on top of school. “It’s like, I have other responsibilities, you know? But _no_ , the night shift has to be the most important thing in my life.” She rolled her eyes, dipping a fry in her milkshake. Jason wasn’t sure when she had gotten it or why he wasn’t stopping her from stealing his food. “Like, I love the job, it’s really rewarding and everything. But it’s not the only thing in my life, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“What about you?” she asked as Hattie came back with a plate of waffles. “Thank you! These look amazing.” She dug in, pouring enough syrup over the waffles that Jason raised one eyebrow. “So?” she prompted after swallowing. “Do you have a job?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a driver.”

“Oh cool.” Stephanie took another bite, gesturing with her hands before she swallowed and could speak again. “So like a chauffeur?”

Jason couldn’t help the hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

“How’s that pay?”

“Pretty well.” He took a bite of his own food.

“Did you need like, a special license or something?”

“Nah.” Jason didn’t even have a driver’s license. Mask thought it was too much of a risk to have his face on anything real. “Just gotta be good on the road.”

She hummed, tilting her head to one side. “And are you good on the road?”

His grin widened. “Yeah. I am.”

Stephanie grinned too, stealing another one of his fries and popping it in her mouth. “Maybe you could show me sometime.”

Jason’s brain glitched for a second but he shook it off, taking a fry himself. He took the second it took to chew to make sure his voice was steady when he said, “Yeah, maybe.”

Stephanie left a little while later, turning to give him a final wave at the door. Jason awkwardly raised his hand in response. As soon as the door closed he turned and shot Hattie a glare.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, collecting Stephanie’s empty plate and generous tip. Jason folded his arms. “You need to get around more,” the woman said, unfazed. “And you were getting along pretty well.”

“After she _ambushed_ me,” he grumbled, jabbing a fry into his shake.

Hattie laughed and ruffled his hair. Jason ducked. “What’s that I heard about showing her your driving skills?” she asked, giving him a meaningful look.

Jason could feel his cheeks burning. “S’nothing,” he muttered. “Figured she would leave me alone if I didn’t argue.”

“Sure, kid.” Hattie glanced from his half-full plate to the clock over the counter. “Your mama’s getting out soon, yeah? I’ll bring you a box for that.”

* * *

“No hungry?” Catherine signed carefully when she entered the waiting room and spotted the bag in his hand. Jason glanced down at it.

“I’m fine,” he signed back. “Got distracted talking.”

“Talking?”

Jason rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yeah. No seats so a girl sat with me. No!” He pointed at her, scowling at the elated smile spreading across her face. “Don’t.”

“Beautiful?” she signed, raising an eyebrow.

Jason huffed and waggled a hand. Catherine smacked him on the arm and he jerked away. “What was that for?!”

“Rude,” she signed.

“You feeling okay?” he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

She paused, deciphering the gestures. “Tired. Happy you friend.”

Jason groaned. “Not a friend. We just met!”

“Number?”

“No.”

She smacked his arm again.

“You and Hattie are going to be the death of me,” he muttered. He grimaced at her lost expression. “Sorry.” He repeated the sentence in sign.

She smiled but it was a little forced, and Jason cursed himself for upsetting her. “How H-A-T-T-I-E?”

“She’s good. Pestering me.” He rummaged in the bag and pulled out two cookies. “She slipped these in the bag.” Catherine accepted her cookie with a soft smile. Jason watched her carefully. Getting her to eat had been hard since the chemo. His mouth twitched into a smile when she nibbled on it. He wasn’t sure what had set it off, but Catherine had been more active in the past few days. She had helped with lunch and even proposed their next trip to the park. There was a part of him that cringed away from the hope that burned brighter with every sign she painstakingly formed, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but most of him embraced it whole-heartedly. He had always been stupidly optimistic, or that’s what his dad used to say at least.

“Home?” Catherine signed. Jason nodded, shoving his cookie in his mouth and walking around to the back of the wheelchair. He paused when her hands moved again. “Game?” she signed hesitantly.

He grinned. “A game sounds great.” She smiled back and Jason pushed her out of the doctor’s office, a spring in his step that hadn’t been there for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk what you think about this chapter please! I usually stick strictly to gen so...yeah... ^^'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're all here for the mother-son relationship, right? Cool.

Jason hesitated outside the door. He rested his head on the wood, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His shoulder ached in time to the beat of his song. He might have been able to hide the hospital-grade bandages that were wound tightly around his shoulder and bicep, but there was no way he could conceal the sling. He would have taken it off and suffered through if it hadn’t been for the minor detail that any movement felt like being stabbed with a dozen knives. He took another deep breath and fumbled for his key. Time to face the music.

Catherine looked up from her spot by the stove, a small smile on her face. It dropped away immediately when he turned from locking the door and his injury was visible. She dropped the spoon into the pot she had been stirring and made her way over as quickly as she could manage -- which was a lot faster than before, now that she had actually been eating and moving around voluntarily. “Jason!” She stumbled and he jerked forward, holding her up and hissing when he instinctively used his bad arm. Catherine pulled back, hands fluttering helplessly over his arm. She took a deep breath and visibly forced herself to calm down. Jason cringed when the panic gave way to a stern glare. “What happened?” she signed sharply. “Sit!” She urged him towards the table.

“I’m fine,” he signed repeatedly but she smacked his hand down from his chest and pointed at the chair. He sat.

“What. Happened.” she signed again, gestures vehement enough that her still-weak body shook.

Jason’s eyes widened. “I’ll tell. Sit, please.”

She remained standing for a moment, fists opening and closing, concern crashing over her like a tidal wave breaking through the dam of her self control, but she sat down next to him, gaze pinning him in place. “Now,” she signed.

Jason fidgeted. “I’m fine,” he repeated, hurrying to continue when her face darkened. “There was an accident. I wasn’t driving-”

“Driver,” she interrupted.

“Yes. We switch cars and drivers to avoid the police,” he said, signs awkward with only one hand. “It wasn’t bad, but the driver panicked because he thought he saw one of the Bats and drove into a streetlight. I hit my shoulder and got a little scraped up. We all got back okay and a doctor fixed me up.” He left out the part when Mask had shot TJ in both knees before finally putting a bullet in his head for his stupidity. He would be hearing the man’s begging in his dreams for days as it was, there was no need to subject his mom to that.

But it wasn’t the possible fate of his crewmates that she was concerned about. “Bats?!” she signed, looking more than a little panicked, and Jason hurried to soothe her.

“It wasn’t really them, just a- a shadow or something. We weren’t followed and I was super careful.”

Catherine stared at him for a long moment before nodding stiffly. She narrowed her eyes, getting back on track. “S-L-I-N-G.”

“It was just-” Jason paused, unsure what the sign for the word he needed was, before fingerspelling like Catherine had, “D-I-S-L-O-C-A-T-E-D. I’m fine!” he added hastily. “The doctor fixed it, it’s just a little-” He hissed through his teeth as Catherine leaned forward and poked his shoulder. “-sore,” he finished, sign sloppy from the pain.

“No lie,” she signed.

Jason shook his head. “I’m not! It’ll be fine in a few days!”

“Doctor said?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. He could read the sarcasm on her face.

“Yes.”

Catherine took a soothing breath before shaking her head and saying out loud, “I don’t care what your quote-unquote _doctor_ said, I am in charge of that injury now and you are not going to complain one bit about your treatment, young man.” She got up, leaving Jason to stare after her, flabbergasted. That was the most she had said all at once since she lost her hearing. She was back quickly with two ice packs, a first aid kit, pills, and a glass of water. Jason grimaced at the medication. He hated drugs of any kind, even the off-brand ibuprofen she was nudging towards him. He glanced up, which was a mistake because one look at her eyes and he knew there was no way he was getting out of this. He sighed and swallowed the pills. Catherine watched him carefully until she was satisfied he had taken them and opened the first aid kit, motioning him to take off the sling. He grimaced but very carefully undid the straps. She helped him with the loose button-down -- one of the many changes of clothes kept in the safehouse -- and frowned at the bandages on his shoulder. He glanced over too, chewing his lip a little at the red peeking through in some spots. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone out on his usual rounds, but the people were hungry whether his shoulder was hurt or not.

Catherine washed her hands and started to remove the bandages, arms steadier than he had seen them in a while. Once she had worked them all off she took one look at his arm and smacked him on the back of the head. “What was that for,” he complained, rubbing his head with his good hand after he had finished signing.

“These are not scratches!” she said, hands busy preparing the antiseptic and clean bandages. She started cleaning the injury, muttering about puncture wounds and idiots. Jason assumed he was the idiot in question, but he’d happily be insulted if it meant his mom was talking and active. Once his arm was wrapped back up she helped him put the sling back on and smacked him on the back of the head again. “Don’t lie to me about injuries,” she said sternly. Jason grimaced but nodded. She eyed him for a moment and grabbed the packs of frozen peas, securing them to his shoulder with more bandages. It wasn’t pretty, but it didn’t fall off when he moved and that was the important thing.

“How did you know how to do that?” he signed, tilting his head to one side. He had seen her fix small stuff like splinters and cuts, but this was a bit beyond normal first aid.

“I patched up your dad enough times before Two-Face got him,” she said wryly. Her hands faltered over the pill bottle as she finally realized she had been speaking out loud the whole time. Jason watched, concerned, but she shook her head and went to return the medication to its shelf. When she returned, she sat down heavily in her seat and stared him directly in the eye. Jason automatically straightened in his chair. Catherine tapped one finger on the table before signing, “I don’t like your work.” There was resignation on her face; they had had this conversation many times over the years.

Jason brightened. With all the drama about his shoulder it had slipped his mind. “Mom,” he signed excitedly. “I’m done! I’m out!”

Her jaw dropped. “What?” she whispered.

Jason nodded rapidly, cheeks hurting from his grin. “I’m out! This was my last job!” He didn’t even notice when he shifted to speaking out loud, hands going from careful signs to excited gestures. “I finally paid off that stupid car!” He reached out to grab her hand, wincing a little at the pull on his shoulder, but not even that could dim his mood. “Do you know what this means, Mom? With the money we’ve saved up we’re sitting pretty. I can get a proper job too, that way we don’t have to worry about your medical bills, and maybe I can even sign up for some classes at Gotham U!” His eyes shone. “I could go to _college_ , Mom!” He calmed down a little, flushing at the soft, uncomprehending smile on Catherine’s face. “Sorry,” he signed sheepishly.

Catherine shook her head, holding his good hand in both of hers. “Not seen this happy in a long time,” she signed quietly.

Jason grinned and awkwardly picked his way through his excited rambling, fingerspelling words he didn’t know, until Catherine’s eyes were shining just as bright as his own. She reached over, wrapping him in a careful hug, and he clung back, burying his face in her hair.

Finally, things were starting to go their way.

* * *

Jason beamed as he shouldered open the diner door, walking backwards and pulling Catherine in the wheelchair behind him. “Hi Hattie!” he called over his shoulder.

“Hey there Ja-” Hattie froze, smile slowly growing wider as Catherine waved. “Cathy!” She raced over, hands fluttering in the air. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“She can’t hear you, Hattie,” Jason reminded, and Hattie froze.

“Oh,” she said, sorrow clouding her eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot.”

“I’ve missed you,” Catherine said, and Jason felt the balloon of happiness in his chest that had appeared when Catherine suggested they go to the diner expand further.

Hattie’s smile was back like a rubber band snapping into place. She bent over and hugged Catherine tightly, wiping at her eyes when she stood up. “You can translate for me, can’t you, hun?” she asked Jason.

“‘Course I can.”

“Oh, I’m a mess, just hang on one second.” Hattie darted away as Jason carefully translated her words. “Frank!” she yelled, uncaring if she disturbed the few customers in the diner at three in the afternoon. “Catherine’s here, I’m taking a break!”

Frank, who was both chef and owner, poked his head out the kitchen door and beamed at Catherine. “Welcome back, Cathy,” he called. Catherine waved as Jason translated. Hattie pulled off her apron and led them over to the booth in the corner, their favorite spot.

“Are you really doing okay, Cathy?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jason said, eyes tracking Catherine’s movements. “Some days are hard. But Jay,” he faltered, swallowing, “keeps me going.” He smiled at his mom and she squeezed his hand.

“How come you signed just then when you spoke before?” Hattie asked. “I’m not sayin’ you can’t,” she added hastily. “Whatever works for you, darlin’ I was just wondering.”

Jason started translating but faltered at the length. He bit his lip and just translated the question. Catherine knew Hattie well enough to know she didn’t mean any harm. Catherine tapped the table thoughtfully before saying, “It’s uncomfortable to talk and not hear yourself.”

“I don’t like it,” Jason translated when she abruptly switched to sign. “It reminds me that-” he stopped as she made a gesture that wasn’t any kind of sign language but got her point across just as well, making a fist by her ear as though grabbing something and then throwing it away.

Hattie reached out, gently taking one of Catherine’s hands and squeezing. “You’re doin’ amazing, Cathy,” she said emotionally.

Catherine smiled, equally emotionally, and this would normally be the time that Jason would slip away to beg snacks from Frank and leave them to their gossip, but instead he was stuck trying to keep up with Hattie’s notorious motormouth. He didn’t mind, though. It was so incredibly worth it to see his mom happily chatting away with one of her friends, although he turned red all the way up to his ears when they started talking about him and the girl from a week or two ago.

He folded his arms on the table and buried his face in them when Hattie made a comment on how the girl had been eager to go for a ride. “Don’t make me say that to my mom,” he moaned, and Hattie laughed. Catherine was sharp enough to catch on and prodded him, a wicked grin on her face, until he reluctantly repeated it. They both started laughing harder and Jason resumed his imitation of an ostrich. “I am off limits!” he signed and said aloud after several minutes. “Talk about something else!”

“Aw,” Catherine said aloud, and Jason abruptly became aware of his impending doom. “But you’re my little baby boy!” She was startling fast when she wasn’t trying to walk and leaned over the corner of the table, squishing his cheeks between her hands. Jason vainly wished for a sinkhole to open up beneath him. It didn’t and he settled for batting at her hands. “What else would I talk about?”

Jason groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for interacting! Comments make the world go round!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is kicking my butt but it's going well! I hope you all enjoy!

Jason picked at his last few french fries, wishing idly that his mom wouldn’t know immediately if he took off the sling still cradling his right arm. It didn’t matter if he put it back on before he saw her. She’d _know_. Whoever owned the ipod he had stolen on his last job for Mask was really into musicals, and his foot tapped in time with the cheerful beat of A Brand New Day. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His mom was in her appointment and Jason, for once, didn’t have dread clawing at his stomach at what the doctor might say. She had been doing great, her color returning, her limbs growing stronger, and the light returning to her eyes. She had been picking up on ASL faster too, even helped him teach Hattie some when they visited. Jason even, tentatively, in the small quiet corner of his mind where hope refused to die, wondered about that magical word: remission.

Jack passed him, bringing plates of food to a table at the far corner of the diner, and Jason glanced up automatically, eye catching on the tv. The headline running across the bottom was, for once, about a lack of activity. The anchor shuffled her notes, announcing, “The GCPD reminds everyone to remain careful on the streets. Any stolen vehicles or suspicious loitering should be reported immediately. And now our guest Chuck Roben, an analyst with the GCPD. What do you think about this silence, Chuck?”

“Well, Rose, I think that whoever is pulling the strings must have something big in the works. Nothing good ever comes from radio silence.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with the picture of the driver?”

“It’s possible. Though considering the people powerful enough to be behind this, it’s just as likely that the driver is out of commission. Perhaps for good.”

Jason took a sip of his drink, grinning around the straw. Chuck was right, he was out of commission, just not in the way everyone probably assumed. _We always knew we’d be free somehow_ , the cast of The Wiz sang in his ears. He popped the last fry in his mouth, standing and dropping a hefty tip on the table before heading over to the register to pay. Jack was a nice kid, even if he had only been there a few months. Hattie chatted away about her next day off and how they would have to meet up, and Jason agreed without reservation. It was strange, the little things that felt so huge. Like making plans without worrying about a call that would force him to bail. He waved at her, promising to bring Catherine the day after next, and turned to go. He pulled to an abrupt halt as someone came through the doors and nearly crashed into him.

“Agh, sorry,” a familiar voice said. Jason’s heart jumped into his throat. It had been weeks, but he still hadn’t come up with a plan for what he would say if he ran into Stephanie again.

She peered up at him, hair messily tucked into a baseball cap, and her face lit up. “Hey, Jay!”

“Um. Hi.”

“I kinda thought you were avoiding me,” she said, pulling off the hat. “People do that sometimes. Apparently some people find me ‘overwhelming and off-putting’.”

“Uh.” His heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He wondered if that was normal. “I don’t...um. Think that.”

“Aw.” She beamed up at him and his mouth went dry. “That’s sweet.” She glanced at the receipt clutched in his hand and her face fell a little. “You’re just leaving, huh? Figures. I have terrible luck.”

He cleared his throat. She thought it was lucky to see him? “I gotta pick up my mom in a bit but, uh, I was just gonna walk around until then.” He paused, gesturing vaguely at the window. “S’nice outside.” God that was a stupid thing to say, she was going to think he was an idiot. He took a deep breath. “You could...join me? If you wanted?”

Stephanie grinned. “I’d like that,” she said.

Jason stared at her for a moment, dazed. “Okay, um, cool. I guess we’ll just…?” He gestured at the door and she shoved the hat back on her head and pushed it open, still grinning in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. He looked back at Hattie, something like panic rising in his chest, and she gave him a triumphant thumbs up before shooing him out the door.

They walked down the sidewalk in silence for a little while, enjoying the sunshine. “So, how’ve you been?” she asked, thumbs hooked into the pockets of her jeans.

“Good.”

She gestured at his arm. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Oh, I dislocated it. It’s almost back to normal, my mom is just paranoid.” He stepped gingerly over a large crack in the sidewalk where a tree root jutted up. It didn’t look like one of Poison Ivy’s but you never knew. “What about you? Is your, uh, your boss still ragging on you?”

“Eh, he chilled out a little once one of his kids told him off.” She caught his incredulously-raised eyebrow and grinned. “I’m friends with his kids, they work for him too. We spend a lot of time together. Night shift isn’t always busy, you know? Got plenty of time to talk when we’re...stocking.”

“Yeah, I guess. Well, uh, I’m glad he got off your back.”

“Me too. He means well, but-” she shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of crazy bosses.”

His lip twitched. “Yeah, a few.”

“Yeah?” She nudged him with her shoulder and his steps faltered. “Do tell.”

“Uh, so my old boss, he is...notorious for having a hair-trigger temper. Like, do anything to piss him off and he’ll _end_ you.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, and I’m talkin’ more than jus’ firing. He’ll make it so you can never work for anybody again.” Jason bit his lip as it occurred to him that this might be a suspicious thing to say. He was out, he didn’t want to be reminded of being in, and he didn’t...he didn’t want her to look at him differently, like she definitely would if she knew he had been a criminal. Hell, _the_ criminal that the news hadn’t shut up about for weeks.

Steph shook her head. “Blacklists,” she said disdainfully. “Always fucking over the little guys, huh?”

Jason breathed an internal sigh of relief, seizing on the cover. “Yeah. I’ve seen a lotta guys come and go. Sometimes, fine, they fucked up and deserved to be sacked but like, one time he blacklisted this guy because he got the dress code wrong. Once.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get sacked?” She tilted her head to look at him and he stared at the blue of her eyes for a half-second before snapping out of it.

“Nah, I left.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced away, shoulders hunching up by his ears. “The pay was good at least, so now we’re sittin’ pretty for a bit while I figure out my next move.”

“Good for you! Life’s too short to get pushed around by petty rich fuckers.”

Jason grinned, relaxing. They paused simultaneously on the corner, glancing both ways. You could never be too careful in Gotham, not with all the car chases and just average, rage-filled civilians. Even with Jason off the streets there were plenty of those to go around. An ice cream stand sat a little way up the block and he gestured at it. “Hey, do you wanna…?” He still had fifteen minutes before he had to be at the hospital, and they could always walk in that direction while eating.

She nodded, the few strands of hair that escaped her hat bouncing. “Sure!”

He got two scoops of neapolitan, and Stephanie got rocky road. She protested when he started to pay for her too, but he didn’t budge. “Sitting pretty, remember?” he said. “S’no trouble.”

Stephanie sighed and then smiled, taking a lick of her cone. “Thanks.”

They kept walking, chatting about nothing in particular. Jason couldn’t stop looking at her, the light in her eyes, the way she almost bounced down the street. It was like the sunshine had become a person and he looked away quickly, staring holes in the back of a random pedestrian. They finished off their cones and Jason found himself staring at a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. He swallowed.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, frowning a little up at him. “Jay?”

Jason held a napkin out to her, staring at the ground, face burning so red it felt like he could charge a solar panel. “You’ve, uh, got some on your face.”

“Oh.” She took the napkin. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, kicking a pebble.

They continued, the silence gradually easing to something less charged. It might have been just Jason, since Stephanie looked comfortable enough, head tipped back and eyes half-lidded as she drank in the rare sunshine, a smile hovering over her lips. Jason smiled a little too, looking up at one of the few remaining trees that lined the road, its bright green leaves stained with light. It really was a beautiful day. His mom shouldn’t have had to spend it inside a hospital. She was usually tired after her appointments, but at least they could open a window and air out the apartment, if nothing else.

They reached the hospital soon enough, and Jason stopped outside, rubbing the back of his head with his good hand. “Thanks for walking with me,” he said.

“Thanks for the ice cream.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Stephanie spoke up. “You got a cell phone?”

Jason blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

She held out her hand expectantly and he fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his flip phone and handing it over. There wasn’t any point in a smartphone, they just broke easier and cost ten times as much. Stephanie didn’t blink at the old model, fiddling with the buttons before handing it back, a big smile on her face. He took it, staring at her contact information. He looked at her, a smile hesitantly tugging at the corner of his mouth. She grinned bigger. “I’ll see you later, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Stephanie winked and walked backwards for a few steps before calling, “Text me!” She spun on her heel and heading down the street, ponytail bouncing. Jason stared after her for a long few seconds before pocketing his phone and pushing open the hospital doors.

* * *

Jason paced back and forth in his room, staring at his phone. The soothing music coming through his headphones did nothing to calm his heart rate. He groaned, rubbing his face. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. Catherine looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Done so soon?” she signed.

“I can’t do this,” he replied, movements sharper than he intended, more honest.

Catherine frowned and stood up, walking over as Jason filled a glass from the tap and downed it in one go. She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders; it was a familiar position. It was hard for him to get his thoughts out when he was upset if someone was staring at him. It was easier if he could know someone was listening without having to make eye contact. She had to reach up to do it now, and it gave Jason a weird pang in his gut every time, even though it had been three years since he passed her in height. “What’s wrong, Jason?” she asked softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on his back. Jason leaned against the counter, head hanging, shoulders hunched.

“I’m a criminal, Mom.”

Her movements faltered and he gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. She couldn’t hear him. He straightened up abruptly, pulling away so he could face her. “I’m a criminal,” he signed. “What if she finds out?”

Catherine looked helpless, hands slowly drifting to her sides. He could see his own frustration mirrored in her face, that even this had been taken from them. “You are so smart,” she signed. “And so brave. So kind.” Jason looked away. Catherine stepped towards him, taking his face in her hands and gently turning it towards her. “You are such a wonderful young man,” she said, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You were forced into that position, it wasn’t your fault.”

“If I hadn’t-”

“No.” She cut him off and Jason squeezed his eyes shut. She knew him well enough to know what he was going to say even if she couldn’t hear it. “You were a child.”

“I’m not anymore,” he signed, hands held up by his head so she’d be sure to see it.

“No. But you got yourself out, Jason.” Her thumbs started up their rhythm on his cheekbones this time. “You kept us safe and alive. You saved my life so many times these past ten years, and I could never be more grateful. Or more proud.”

Jason felt the walls built through years of fear, determination, and spite crumbling as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She hugged him back, holding him steady as his shoulders shook. After a few minutes she pulled back, looking him in the eye. “You can call Stephanie tomorrow,” she decided. “Tonight you’re mine. I’ll pop some popcorn, you get the hot chocolate.”

Jason laughed a little wetly, wiping at his eyes. “What are we watching?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, pulling a bag of microwave popcorn out of the cabinet. “Pride and Prejudice, what else?”

Jason grinned and grabbed two mugs. When he was a kid with too much money and not enough supervision, a dvd player had seemed like the absolute height of luxury. So he had gotten one with his third cut -- the first went to the rent and the second to Catherine’s meds -- along with a few movies from the dollar bin. Catherine had been upset at first, worried about him wasting his money, but two weeks later, on his birthday, Jason had unwrapped the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries, and he knew she didn’t really mind. Now, as they curled up beside each other on their old second-hand couch with the blanket draped over both of them, it almost felt like before everything. Before Willis got laid off and had to turn to the gangs for money, before Catherine got sick, before Jason unknowingly sold his soul for half an hour of thrilling speed.

“Now this,” Catherine said, pointing at the screen as Mr. Darcy butchered his proposal, “is what _not_ to do on your date.”

Jason laughed, leaning his head on her shoulder. She played absently with his hair, both of them cheering when Elizabeth delivered the most iconic smack-down in history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to see the best version of this epic smackdown, check this out. Watch to the end you will not regret it. I'm still laughing. [Rest in FUCKING PIECES, Mr. Darcy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjOTBaqNyCM)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who comments/kudos. You always make my day.
> 
> [Come chat on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/theawkwardvirgin)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not totally happy with this chapter but I've been agonizing over it for days so here it is! Hope you guys like it.

“Then he bought me ice cream. I thought he was gonna try and kiss me for a second but then he just gave me a napkin. For such a hunk, he’s a complete dork, it’s adorable.” Steph wiggled her toes as she considered the coat of purple nail polish she had just applied.

“Hn,” Bruce said, typing on the computer.

Steph dabbed at her pinky toe, which was refusing to cooperate, and stuck the brush back on the nail polish. “I get the feeling you’re not listening.”

Bruce hummed, squinting at the screen.

“So then we went back to his place and had wild sex. He may be a dork in the streets but in the sheets, _whew_!” She fanned herself for good measure.

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

Steph huffed a laugh and hopped off her chair, tipping into a handstand to avoid damaging her nail polish. Never smudging or breaking a nail was a superpower Selina Kyle had that Steph _would_ acquire. “‘kay, I’ll see you later Bruce.”

“Mhm.”

She headed towards the exit as quickly as she could manage on her hands -- which had gotten a lot faster, since Dick had gotten more involved in training her, Cass, and Tim. The typing stopped behind her. She was already at the elevator and back on her feet, and she grinned at Bruce as he spun around in his chair.

“Stephanie-” His voice was a warning but Steph had long since grown immune.

“Bye Bruce!”

* * *

A drop of water ran down Jason’s collar and he hunched his shoulders, shivering as he tugged out his earbuds and pulled his beanie lower. It might be May, but that didn’t mean much in Gotham. It didn’t help that he was right by the water, the chill breeze not blocked by any buildings, only a few shipping containers stacked two high. Jason shook out his hands and took a deep breath, pushing the door to the office open and walking in.

A big, burly man looked up from piles of paperwork, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

Ah, Gotham manners. Jason held out his hand, ignoring the insistent whine in his ears. The docks weren’t exactly picky, but he had to look like he was paying attention. “M’name’s Jason Todd. I’m lookin’ for work.”

Matt Bolkin, manager of the North end of the docks, shook his hand, looking him up and down. “You’re Willis Todd’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir.” Jason tried not to wince. Memories were long in the Bowery, and he didn’t want to be lumped in with what his dad had become.

“Huh. What you been up to since he caught a bullet?”

Jason’s jaw tensed a little, but he shrugged it off. “Odd jobs here and there, ‘nough to keep the lights on.”

The man grunted. “Well, you look strong enough. You got experience?”

“Bit of everything. I’m a quick learner.”

“That’s what they all say.” Matt sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his short beard. “Your da had gang troubles. I don’t need that kind of heat. We’re a legitimate business here.”

Jason barely stopped himself from snorting. Any docks manager had to be at least a _little_ corrupt. “I don’t got those ties,” he said, adding _anymore_ to himself.

Matt didn’t look all that impressed. He glanced at his paperwork. “Anything else I should know?”

“Uh, yeah.” Matt looked interested. Jason doubted many people said yes to that question, even if it was true. “I have this thing called tinnitus, my ears ring all the time. I usually wear earbuds, play music to drown it out. But that won’t affect my attention, I swear. ‘N I can read lips, even if I can’t hear you.”

Matt tilted his head slowly to one side and stared at Jason for a long few seconds. Jason fought the urge to fidget. Matt shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t stop you from doin’ your job.”

“It won’t,” Jason said eagerly.

“Pay’s minimum. Cash. You work until the job’s done.”

Jason made sure to keep eye contact as he said, “I can do that.”

“You’re not skittish are you?” Matt watched him keenly. “Can’t always keep the rodents away.”

Jason knew what that meant, and a thrill ran down his spine at the thought of running into a Bat. If they recognized him from the news...but Mask had done a decent cover-up, and most of the pictures had been downgraded in quality, just enough to obscure his features better. It helped that everyone seemed to agree that he was probably dead. Hell, if he was anyone else, he would have been. “Like you said, you’re a legitimate business. I can handle some pests.”

For the first time, something like a smile broke across Matt’s face. “I like you, kid,” he said, standing up. “You got yourself a job. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the guys, show you around.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Nah, none’a that “sir” nonsense. It’s Matt, just like everyone else. We don’t got time for it.”

“Right.”

The crew were average for Gotham, more thuggish than Jason was used to working with -- Mask had high standards -- but they were nice enough. The work itself wasn’t anything foreign. Jason may have been working for Mask since he was nine, but he had tagged along with his dad enough times to know the jist of his duties already, and his steel trap of a mind worked as well on the numbering and loading system as on driving routes and alarm systems.

It also worked on the gossip that was constantly being shared. Moving crates wasn’t exactly mentally taxing, and Jason learned more about the movements on the street in one night than he would have in months of working for Black Mask. Small-time dealers, the movements of the different gangs, the recent cop paths, they knew it all. Harry had a sister who worked a corner and had the sharpest ears this side of Burnley, and Jason tucked away the news about a new pimp with a fondness for “sampling his product” -- Harry spat on the ground -- and taking 60% of their fee. There were no heroes in the Bowery, Jason had learned that a long time ago, but some extra cash could get the girls’ heads high enough above the water that they could find a better pimp at least.

That’s why Jason was out nearing four a.m., hands stuffed in his pockets and leaning against a lamppost. Candy stepped out of a car, pulling her coat tighter around her, and her face softened when she saw him. “Hey Jay.”

“Hey Candy.” Jason glanced at the car as it drove away. Perfect paint job, shining rims and hubcaps: a rich guy using a woman he would turn his nose up at any other time.

Jason’s mouth twisted but he dropped it when Candy tapped him on the arm. “Earth to Jay.” She raised an eyebrow at him and he flushed a little.

“Sorry. I heard about a new guy edgin’ in on the business. Handsy and stingy?”

Candy huffed, pulling a cigarette out of the pocket of her fur coat and lighting up. “Yeah. Name’s Mendez. He’s been drawin’ some girls in from Cooke to Newmar. Just a few blocks, but he’s been expandin’.”

“Know where I could find those girls?”

Candy blew a plume of smoke. “No.”

“No?”

She looked at him sympathetically. “When I say he’s bringin’ in girls, I mean it literally Jay. No one over 16 in his batch. No offense, kid, but you’re a pretty big guy, ‘specially to a little slip of a girl. And they’re scared enough as it is.” She took another drag. “What’re you plannin’ on doing?”

“Give ‘em some cash so they can get a better pimp,” Jason said, folding his arms over his chest and trying to ignore the anger that kept rising as he learned more about Mendez. Kids. He was using kids.

Candy sighed. “You’re a good kid, Jay, but I don’t think that’s gonna be enough. He’s not the only one that’s gettin’ stingy. Even Marcus has been upping his take.”

“Seriously?” Marcus had been Candy’s pimp for years, and he always treated his girls right. “Why?”

Candy flicked away the butt of her cigarette. “I’ve heard some things. Nothin’ conclusive, mind, but there’s been whispers that Black Mask is planning something. A move against the Maronis or the Falcones, someone big.”

“That’s insane,” Jason breathed. “He’ll turn the streets into a war zone.”

“Why do you think the pimps are trying to up their income now? They’re givin’ themselves a windfall, even if it means no food for us.”

Jason swallowed hard. He would have heard about something this big, right? But then again, Mask had always been tight-lipped. He kept all his jobs separate. Dread rose in Jason’s stomach. His mom was getting better, but she wasn’t fast enough to outrun a gang war. “Mask isn’t that crazy.”

“How d’you know?” Candy asked. Jason’s head snapped towards her and he was about to stumble out an excuse when she continued. “All the big guys are crazy nowadays, kid. Masks and Bats and Clowns. We’re just stuck in the middle of it all.” She patted his shoulder. “Take my advice, Jay. Go home an’ keep your head down. Keep up your food runs if you need to, but don’ try to be a hero. You’re one of the good things in the Bowery, and we’ve got precious few down here. We’d hate to lose you.”

* * *

Jason nervously tugged at his collar, trying to straighten out a persistent wrinkle. Catherine laughed softly and fixed it for him. “You look very dashing,” she said.

Jason fidgeted, reaching up to run a hand through his new haircut. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone? Maybe-”

“I’ll be just fine. Go on.” She ushered him towards the door, ignoring his dragging feet. “Have fun!” She shut the door firmly behind him and Jason stared at the opposite wall for a few moments. He sucked in a breath, tugged on his button-down shirt once more, and headed down the stairs.

Stephanie was waiting outside the Olive Garden, wearing a purple sundress and white converse. The setting sun made it look like her hair was lit from the inside and Jason swallowed hard. He smiled and raised a hand when she waved, crossing the street in a slow jog and forcing down his nerves.

“Hey,” he said when he reached her.

“Hey.” She looked him up and down and smiled. “You look nice. I like your hair.”

Jason’s hand went automatically to his new, spikier style. “Thanks. Um, you look really nice too.”

“Thank you.” They stared at each other for a second before Stephanie said, “You wanna head inside?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great.” Jason’s palms were sweating. He wiped his hands on his pants as he followed Stephanie into the restaurant.

“How’s the job search going?” Stephanie asked once they were seated and nibbling on breadsticks.

Jason grinned. This, at least, he could talk about without risking his secrets or getting flustered. “Really well. I start at the docks tomorrow.”

“Nice!” She took a sip of her drink, grinning around the straw as she said, “I bet you can lift those crates like they’re nothing, huh?” Her eyes lingered on his biceps and Jason pinked. So much for not getting flustered.

“Um, I mean, it, uh, depends on what’s inside.”

Stephanie giggled and Jason turned redder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, stifling her laugh. “You’re right.”

Jason cleared his throat. “Um, what about you?”

“Eh, same old same old.” She rested her chin on her clasped hands, smiling at him. “I want to know more about you, Jay.”

Shit. “Uh, what do you want to know?”

“I dunno, how old you are, what you do for fun, where you went to school, that kinda thing.”

Jason nodded slowly. They had kind of just...bypassed the normal questions before. He wondered what that meant, if it was weird. “Yeah, sure. Um, well, my name’s actually Jason but most people call me Jay. I’m nineteen. I like, um,” he picked at his napkin, wondering if she’d think it was weird. “I like reading. Like Jane Austen, that kinda thing.” He glanced up at her nervously but she was still smiling at him. He sat up a bit straighter. “I love driving of course. I went to City.” There were three branches of public schools in Gotham: Gotham Heights, Gotham Central, and Gotham City. Not very creative but no one could ever accuse the founders of forgetting what city they lived in. “Haven’t started college yet but,” he sucked in a breath. It was still so new, so fragile. “Hopefully soon.”

“What do you want to go in for?”

“Um, maybe English? Lit?” Jason looked at the table. “I don’t really know.”

“Yeah, I feel that. I change my future major every time I like a class or see something cool.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Jason’s mouth. “Yeah? What do you have currently?”

“Baby Otter weigher.”

Jason choked laughing on his drink. “What?”

“It’s a real thing!” Stephanie reached over and poked him in the arm, but she was laughing too. “I saw it on National Geographic.”

“How would you even go to college for that?”

“I have no idea but I have a few months to either figure it out or change my mind again.”

Once Jason’s laughter calmed down he said, “Okay, your turn. Tell me about yourself, Stephanie.”

She propped her chin on her hand. “You can call me Steph, all my friends do. I’m eighteen, I like playing piano, gymnastics, and martial arts. I went to Heights.”

Jason’s eyebrows rose. “In Uptown?”

“That’s the only Heights I know of,” she said teasingly. “My mom works at Gotham Memorial so we’d commute together, but don’t worry, I’m from Lower Gotham just like you. I’m a few blocks north of the library.”

Jason nodded slowly, placing her in his mental map. His brow furrowed. They were towards the edge of the Bowery, in the safer areas further from Park Row, but it was still at least a fifteen minute walk to the library, and then however long it took her to reach her house from there. It might not seem like a lot, but it was getting dark and this was Gotham. “Did you walk here?”

“I have a bus pass.”

Jason relaxed a little. “And you could probably kick whoever tried to mess with you’s ass, huh? What kinda martial art?”

“Mixed.” Steph chewed her breadstick thoughtfully. “Jiu-Jitsu is the most effective ‘cause I’m small.”

Jason nodded solemnly. “Very small.”

She tossed her napkin at him.

Their food arrived and Jason tried to keep up with the conversation while being continually sidetracked by the way Steph’s eyes sparkled. By the time they had finished eating and bickered over who would pay -- Jason won but Steph insisted on picking up the tip at least -- it was fully dark outside and Jason walked Steph to the bus stop. Sirens wailed in the distance, muffled shouts floated between buildings, and shadowy figures slipped into alleys and along sidewalks. Most people would be scared but Jason and Steph were Gotham-bred through and through, and they didn’t even blink when a gunshot echoed.

“Three miles away,” Jason guessed.

Steph snorted, though she looked a bit jumpy, staring in the direction of the gunshot. “Crime Alley?”

“Probably.”

He glanced down at her and blinked at her worried expression, vague smile melting into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“You live in Crime Alley.” Steph wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “You’ll be careful, right?”

Jason smiled softly. She was worried about him! “Of course.” They both looked up as the bus’ headlights appeared down the street.

“I had fun tonight,” Steph said, her worried expression relaxing a bit.

“Me too.”

She stepped a bit closer to him, looking up into his eyes. “Let’s do it again soon, huh?”

Jason’s heart fluttered, his mouth went dry. “Yeah. Real soon.”

The bus pulled up to the stop. Steph hiked her purse higher over her shoulder and paused on the steps, smiling softly at him. “See you later, Jay.”

“Be safe,” he called, raising one hand in a wave, the other stuffed in his pocket. “Text me when you get home!”

She shot him a thumbs up, the doors closed, and she was gone. Jason stared after the bus for a second before sucking in a deep breath, a massive grin spreading across his face. He headed home at a jog, jumping up to slap signs and doorjambs to release some of the excited energy running through his limbs.

Catherine looked up from her book, smiling hopefully and resting it on her lap. “How’d it go?”

Jason laughed breathlessly. He couldn’t stop smiling. “It was great. Really really great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bit of Steph's pov bc I couldn't resist  
> Baby's hair in the movie is very combed flat and (like I mentioned before) kinda kiddish imo. So Jason has his floofier (? idk what word to use) hair now  
> [(One of my favorite ever fanarts of Jason by cantobear)](https://cantobear.tumblr.com/post/149046840698/08162016-happy-birthday-to-our-precious-jaybird)  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you love the ending of this chapter as much as I do!

Jason had just three more cans -- ravioli tonight -- in his cart before he headed over to visit the working girls. There was less money in his pocket than usual; he might be getting more steady income, but the amount was nowhere close to Mask’s jobs. Jason didn’t mind. It was worth the budgeting to be out of the man’s clutches. He scanned the alleys casually as he passed them, looking for any glimpse of someone hunkered down. That was when he heard the crying.

He straightened and left the nearly-empty shopping cart behind as he followed the sound to the alley a few feet ahead of him. He poked his head around the side of the building. A girl was huddled in the darkness, sobbing into her knees. She looked up with a gasp when Jason stepped into the mouth of the alley.

“No- no please-” she whimpered, pulling herself back with one hand, the other raised in front of her.

Jason slowly sat down on the ground, ignoring the damp that immediately began seeping into his pants. “Hey,” he said quietly, “it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurtchya.” He glanced her up and down. Heels, a too-tight crop top and a too-short skirt. He was one block away from Newmar. Fuck. Jason closed his eyes. She had to be fourteen at the most. He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. She hadn’t moved. “You might have heard of me from some of the other girls,” Jason said softly. “Jay?”

Recognition dawned in her eyes, but she didn’t relax. “Candy said you might be around,” she said slowly.

“Yeah?” Jason smiled encouragingly. “What else did she say?”

“That I should let her know if you did show up so she could beat your ass.”

Jason laughed quietly. “Sounds like her. Did she tell you I wouldn’t hurt you?”

The girl nodded once. “Said you brought money ‘n food ‘n didn’t expect nothin’ in return.”

“That’s right. You hungry? I got some ravioli.” Jason very slowly reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a can and rolling it towards her. She examined it carefully, turning it over and over and shaking it before shuffling to the side and picking up a pocket knife from the ground. Whoever had assaulted her had probably made her drop it.

“Do you wanna tell me your name?” Jason asked once she had gotten a few mouthfuls in.

She eyed him warily but relented after a minute. “Rachel.”

“Nice you meet you, Rachel. Do you have somewhere safe to go tonight?”

She shrugged, talking around a mouthful of ravioli. “S’posed to get a john.”

“With those bruises?” Even in the dim light he could see them, the handprints around her tiny wrists, bruises blooming on her stomach and thighs.

Rachel ducked her head. “Need to pay,” she mumbled. “Didn’t get enough last night. Mr. Mendez said he’d find someone that paid well and wouldn’t mind s‘long as I do what he says without bitching.”

Jason’s smile tightened. “I see. How old are you, Rachel?” She eyed him with new wariness, turning the knife in her hand slightly. Jason held up his hands. “I’m not gonna report you, swear.”

Rachel slowly went back to eating. “Turn fourteen next month.” Fuck, he was right.

“Your parents around?”

She tensed. “What is this, an interrogation? You with the cops?”

“No.” Jason watched her carefully. “‘f I gave you enough for a motel room, think you’d skip meetin’ this john?”

Rachel stared at him. “That’s a lot.”

“I know.”

She picked at the bottom of her skirt, trying to tug it down and hide some of the bruises. It didn’t work. “I dunno,” she said. “Mr. Mendez’d be pissed.”

“I could give you ‘nough money to tide you over until you get a new pimp.”

Rachel blinked. “You can?”

Jason made his smile as cheerful as possible. “Yeah, easy.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What you want?”

“I want you to be safe, or at least safer.”

“You got enough for that?”

Jason’s smile went a little lopsided. “I got some savings.”

“Why d’you care?” she asked, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“Because I-” Jason sighed. “I know what it’s like to be desperate.”

“You a sugar baby?”

Jason let out a startled laugh. “Uh, no.” There was one time when he was eleven that he had botched a job and Mask had threatened to have him pay off his debt another way, but he never followed through on it. But Jason had spent enough nights waiting for his mom to come home or, worse, huddled in the closet with his fingers in his ears waiting for the man of the night to leave to understand, to a degree. “Different kinda desperate. Still fucked my life over, just not...literally. Anyway, think you’d take the deal?”

She thought about it for a while, kicking at the now-empty can. “Thanks,” she said finally, voice small, “but I don’t think I can risk it.” She looked up at him, fear at his possible reaction to her rejection filling her eyes.

“Okay,” Jason said, keeping his voice level through sheer force of will. “Can I still give you a bit of cash? I know Mendez is greedy with his take.”

Rachel nodded and Jason put a few twenties on a dry-ish piece of cardboard and backed away so she could grab them. He stayed with her until a shining black car pulled up to the curb and honked twice. Rachel glanced at him once before climbing in the car, and Jason forced himself to wave, offering her a small, encouraging smile.

Once it was out of sight Jason turned and barely managed to stop himself from punching a wall. Only the knowledge that his mom would ask questions stopped him, but he still kicked a broken brick as hard as he could, sending it spinning into the alley and ricocheting off the walls. “ _Fuck_!” Jason fisted his hands in his hair, pulling hard. “ _Fucking_ -” He kicked a beer bottle and it shattered against a telephone pole. He crouched down, covering his face with his hands and breathing hard. He could track down Mendez, he could make him pay for what he did to Rachel. He wasn’t one of the trained mercenaries Mask sometimes hired, but he could street fight as well as anyone else. It was practically a required skill for anyone in the alley. Jason sat down hard, letting his head thump against the wall. If he did that, Mendez would hurt Rachel, maybe even kill her. He couldn’t stop him for good, all he could do was keep helping as much as he could with food and money. Jason stared up at the smog-filled sky. The Bat-Signal shone against the smog and clouds and his lip curled in a snarl. Where were they for the people of the alley? Where were they for Rachel and the hundreds of kids like her? Where were they when Jason and his mom -- hell, even his dad, before the gangs and the alcohol got to him -- needed them?

Jason stood up and spat on the ground. Some heroes.

* * *

During his first month at the docks, Jason learned that the bats showed up a lot. It wasn’t surprising, per se, everyone knew the docks were a hotbed of smuggling, but it was still unnerving. The first time it happened he stopped dead in his tracks and tried hard to merge into the shipping container behind him. Harry jostled his shoulder. “Pretend you don’ see them,” he hissed in Jason’s ear. “They won’ fuck with us ‘f we don’t fuck with them.”

Jason nodded, tucked his head into his chest, and followed Harry to the container they had to unload.

By the third time, Jason barely gave them a glance before going on his way. If they hadn’t recognized him by now, they probably wouldn’t. Of course, there was always the chance that they were biding their time, but they seemed to pay as little attention to the dock workers as the dock workers did to them. Jason liked figuring out which one of the horde of brightly-colored children that followed Batman was around that day. Some of them had names, like Batgirl and Robin and Nightwing. Everyone knew those three, just like everyone knew the current Batgirl and Robin weren’t the first ones to hold the names. But there were two other ones that he never really got a good look at and wasn’t sure if anyone knew of them. One of them was so stealthy he wondered if they were actually a meta and could travel through shadows or something. The other one he could see at least, but Jason didn’t recognize his costume. Maybe it was a newbie. Maybe it was one of the endless stream of Robins that was the most persistant meme in Gotham at this point. No one knew for sure how many there were, but most people said four: the original, the girl, the boy with the staff, and the kid with the sword.

He could see the glint of their floodlights sparking off said sword from the corner of his eye but he didn’t look over. Frank had said the kid was stabby, showed off a scar on his arm to prove it, and Jason didn’t want to set him off by looking at him wrong. He walked into the metal box, listening absently to the way his footsteps echoed, and grabbed the last crate from inside, shifting it onto his dolly. When he turned around, there was a figure standing in the doorway, pointed ears silhouetted by the floodlights outside.

“Jesus _fuck_!” Jason yelped, jerking backwards. His heart was roaring in his ears, but he took a second to reevaluate. The figure was too short to be Batman and Batman didn’t have blonde hair. “Batgirl?” he ventured cautiously. “I don’ want no trouble. I’m jus’ doin’ my job. Just”, he gestured vaguely at the box before snapping his arm back down to his side, “movin’ the boxes, don’t know what’s inside.” He should stop talking.

Batgirl stepped back, gesturing with one arm for him to follow. Jason cursed under his breath, looking around the shipping container. There was only one door and he couldn’t stay in here. What if she came in after him for not listening? Jason slowly pushed his dolly out of the container, peeking cautiously around. Batgirl was mostly swallowed up by the shadows a few yards away, and she pointed meaningfully at a dark spot between two stacks of containers. Jason swallowed hard but wheeled the crate over, pulled his dolly out from under it, and hightailed it to the office when no other capes appeared to stop him.

Matt didn’t seem surprised by the events Jason relayed in a mostly-level voice. He had told Matt he could handle the bats, and he wouldn’t chicken out now. He liked this job, even if his muscles ached after a long shift.

“They do that sometimes,” he said. “Never the Bat himself though. He just breaks our locks once we’ve all gone home. We like it when they do it this way. Give it ten minutes and you can go pick it up. It was just the one crate?”

“Yeah,” Jason struggled to remember for a second over his rattled nerves. “Crate B24 from Container 14.”

“Alright, I’ll mark it down.” Matt clapped him on the shoulder. “You handled it well, Jay.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

Stephanie was waiting for him in front of the library, and Jason didn’t try to hold back the grin that crossed his face when he saw her. “Hey Steph!” he called, jogging up to her.

“Hey Jay,” she said, beaming and catching his hand in her own. The first time she had done that was two weeks ago, while they were mini golfing in the one place too stubborn to close no matter how many times it was robbed or its plants were torn up by Poison Ivy or the obstacle on its final hole -- a clown, and how anyone could possibly be stupid enough for that, Jason didn’t know -- was stolen in a blaze of chaos. He had been so distracted by the feeling of her hand in his that he completely botched his next shot. Now, it was familiar enough that he could think, though if Steph’s laughing grin was any indication he was still blushing. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along. “I wanna show you something.”

Jason followed willingly. They dodged between cars, practically running after a few minutes just for the heck of it. It was a beautiful evening, the sky was clear for once so they could see the sun setting over the mainland, and Jason felt alive. Steph never let go of his hand, even as she laughed and skipped and eventually pulled him into an alley. They were in the theater district now, and Jason looked around curiously. “This is Lionheart Theater, right?”

“Yep.” Steph let go of his hand to grab the fire escape. “Come on!”

They spilled onto the roof of the theater, breathless from the climb. Steph sat up and tugged off her backpack. She pulled out a can of beer and raised a questioning eyebrow at Jason, holding it out.

Jason took it and Steph pulled out a second one for herself. She let the way over to the edge of the roof, where the carved whorls and ribbons snaked downward, somehow surviving generations of Gotham. She swung her legs over the edge and smiled back at him. Jason copied her, cracking open his beer. They could see the sunset even better from here, streaks of vibrant color criss-crossing the sky gradually darkening to a deep blue as the sun finally tipped below the horizon. They sat in silence, enjoying the view and sipping their beers. Jason glanced up, where the sky was already turning to black. A brave little star stared back; even as he watched, another one joined it. Jason felt something swell in his chest until it almost hurt. It was a good kind of hurt.

“This is my favorite spot in Gotham,” Steph said finally, after their beers were half gone. Jason glanced at her. She was smiling wistfully out at the city. “I’d come here all the time when I was younger, usually to get away from my dad and his friends.” She glanced at him. “I’d sneak into the actual building and watch their performances. They did all kindsa stuff, musicals and new stuff and Shakespeare. I didn’t know what was going on half the time, but I loved it anyway. The costumes, the lights, the way that they just...changed when they stepped on stage. I was up in the catwalks and I saw this woman,” she laughed. “She was actually probably only a few years older than me now but back then I thought she was so grown up. I saw her in her beautiful dress with her hair all done up and she was terrified. One of the other actors was trying to calm her down. But as soon as she stepped on stage that all fell away. She was smiling and confident and remembered all her lines. And I just…” She picked at the tab of her can. “I just wanted that, you know? To step into another life.” She smiled at him and Jason’s heart gave a hard thump. “And you know, Jay? These two months since I met you? It feels like another life.”

Jason couldn’t breathe. He stared at her. Steph laughed a little wetly, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry, you probably think I’m really dramatic. Spent too much time in the theater.”

Jason reached out and tentatively took her hand. “I-” He wanted to say that he felt the same way. He wanted to explain the way she lit up his world, how it felt like he could do anything around her. What actually came out was, “I like theater.” Jason cursed himself internally but Steph seemed almost relieved.

“Oh yeah? You know any Shakespeare, Mr. Thespian?” she asked, settling back into her usual bouncy banter.

Jason smiled cautiously, her words still bouncing about in his head. But if she wanted to walk it back from that ledge of serious feelings, he could do that. He knew it was fast, they had only been dating for a month after all. “But soft!” he declared, flinging out an arm dramatically over the city. “What light through yonder window breaks?” He looked at her and his breath caught in his throat again. She was laughing, hair shining in the moonlight. “It is the east,” he continued softly. “And Juliet is the sun.”

Steph had stopped laughing. She stared back at him, and Jason felt like he could drown in those eyes. She licked her lips. “You know, uh, you know anything else?”

“Um.” Jason tried to think while she was looking at him like that. “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt,” he breathed. “That’s uh, that’s from Measure for Measure. I...it’s kinda my motto.”

“That’s a good motto,” she said, sounding breathless. Jason swallowed. “Jason?” Steph asked in a whisper.

His mouth was dry. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jason’s brain shorted out. “Y- yeah.”

Steph leaned forward. Jason didn’t know what to do with his hands. He settled for leaving them by his sides. He wished he had a mint. He brushed his teeth before coming but- She pressed her lips to his and Jason stopped thinking.

He stared dazedly at her when she pulled back. “Jay?” she asked, sounding nervous.

Jason swallowed. “Can we- can we do that again?”

She laughed and it was the best sound he had ever heard. This time she cradled his face with her hands and he let his arms come up to wrap around her. Her lips were a little chapped but he couldn’t care less. She tasted like cherry lip gloss and beer and Jason couldn’t think in that moment of a time he had ever been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I screamed while writing it


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from the movie.

Jason hummed along to his music as he headed down the stairs. It was a few days after the night at the theater and he still caught himself smiling at nothing. The guys at the docks teased him relentlessly about it, but he had a lot to smile about! His mom was getting better, an application for GCU was sitting on the kitchen table, he had a legit job and an incredible girlfriend. Jason mouthed the words as he spun himself around the creaky railing and into the vestibule. _I'm walking on sunshine, whoa. And don't it feel good!_

He pulled the door open, ready to go see Marcy and pick up his load for tonight, and froze on the step. A black car idled at the curb, chrome glittering in the streetlights, untouched by scratches or dirt. The windows were tinted black and even as he watched the back door popped open, a suited arm disappearing back into the interior. Jason didn’t move for a long five seconds. He looked longingly down the empty street, thought for half a second about just...going back inside. But no, that would be suicide and signing the death warrant of everyone he cared about. Jason took a deep breath and hit the button on his ipod, cutting off the happy tune. He suddenly felt very close to the ground.

Mask was waiting for him in the car, sitting with one leg casually crossed over the other and a glass in his hand. Jason slid in next to the bodyguard who had opened the door. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb. Jason stared down at his ipod, fiddling with the click wheel, finally settling on something low enough that it wouldn’t distract him and frenetic enough to match the pulse pounding in his ears. He took a quiet breath and looked up, meeting Mask’s eyes.

“Hello Baby,” he said.

Jason clenched his jaw for a second before forcing it loose. “Mask. We agreed I’m done.”

Mask hummed, swirling his drink lazily. “We agreed you were square, Baby. I don’t recall saying anything about you being done.” Jason’s heart stopped in his chest. Mask sipped his drink. His face was calm, but his eyes bored into Jason. “I was waiting for you to come back.” Casual, but Jason could see the venom in his eyes. “This is when it gets good, Baby. Now’s your chance to make some real money. A full cut, not a few stacks a job.”

“I’m done,” Jason managed to force out. He had fought too hard for this, had worked for a decade to be free. His mom, GCU, Steph. “We’re square. I was never doing this for the money.”

Mask drained his glass, setting it in a cup holder with a delicate clink. “You know I never do a job with the exact same crew twice, right?”

Jason tensed even further than he already was. It was never a good sign when Mask started asking obvious questions. “Yes.”

“And you also know you’ve been my driver for every job since we’ve met.”

_Not by choice,_ Jason wanted to yell. A cello grated in his ears. “Yes.”

Mask leaned back against his seat, surveying Jason with a look that made him feel all of ten again. “So I’m of the thinking that you are my lucky charm and that I am not doing this job without you,” he said in a reasonable tone. Other people might relax at that, thinking they couldn’t be in that much danger since Mask was calm. But Jason knew better. Jason knew that Mask was at his most dangerous when he wasn’t screaming or shooting people, but focused like a razor’s edge. He swallowed hard, only maintaining eye contact through a decade of practice. Mask tilted his head to the side a little, still calm, still reasonable, still deadly. “Now I don’t think I need to give you the speech about what happens when you say no, how I could break your legs and kill everyone you love, because you already know that, don’t you?”

Jason closed his eyes for one heartbeat, two. He unlocked his jaw. “Yeah.”

Mask nodded, and the gleam in his eyes was pleased. “So what’s it gonna be? Behind the wheel or in a wheelchair?”

Jason stared in the general direction of Mask’s knees, knuckles white around his ipod. He couldn’t do this again, couldn’t lose everything just as he was finding himself for the first time.

“Clock’s ticking, Baby,” Mask said, tapping his watch. “Wouldn’t want to worry your mother by staying out too late.”

Jason almost choked on the threat. He couldn’t risk them. If the price of keeping his mom and Steph and Hattie and all the other people he cared about safe was his soul, he’d pay it. It couldn’t be worth much at this point anyway. Jason looked up, meeting Mask’s eyes. “Alright,” he said, voice a rasp. “I’m in.”

“Good.” Mask tossed him a burner. “Clear your schedule, this is a moving target. Can’t have the guys at the docks getting in the way.”

“No sir,” Jason said dully. Going legit. GCU. But his loved ones would be alive. “Can’t have that.”

The car pulled to a stop and Jason looked out. They were outside the supermarket. He swallowed and popped the door. His sneaker was hitting the asphalt when Mask spoke up. “Oh and your girlfriend from the diner.” Jason stopped breathing, not daring to move, still hunched over halfway out of the car. “She’s cute. Let’s keep it that way.”

Jason got out of the car and watched it drive away.

His family was alive.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

Jason was sitting in a stolen Nissan outside an art gallery when his phone started ringing. There were only two people who ever called that number. He shot a quick glance at the gallery. One minute and thirty-seven seconds. He tugged out his earbuds, worked the phone out of his pocket, and opened it, bracing himself for Hattie’s voice telling him that some disaster befell her and his mom on their way back from the cafe. “Hello?”

“Hey Jay.”

Jason relaxed and then stiffened again. “Steph. Uh.” He glanced at the gallery and tried to lighten his voice. “What’s up?”

“The curtain. An hour ago.”

Jason stared blankly through the windshield. His ears rang in the silence. He was supposed to be watching the Lionheart Players perform Twelfth Night. They had gotten the tickets a week ago, prime seating. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” Steph agreed, the edge of steel in her voice being swallowed by concern. “Did something happen?”

“Uh. Yeah, I’m so sorry, it’s been-” Jason swallowed hard. “It’s been really crazy at home lately and I totally forgot.” He closed his eyes, one hand still tight around the steering wheel. One minute.

“Is it your mom?”

“I-” Thank God they weren’t having this conversation in person. Jason was a terrible liar but maybe the old phone model would disguise the hitch in his voice. “Yeah. She’s just, um,” he cleared his throat, trying to shift the guilt into anguish in his voice. “She’s been having some trouble lately.”

“I’m so sorry, Jay.” Jason was the worst person alive. “Do you want me to come over? Maybe I can help?”

“No,” he barked. Forty-two seconds. Jason shifted the car into drive automatically. “Um, I mean. I’m sorry, I just-” He had never even taken her to his apartment before. “I don’t think she’d want you to see her like this.” Thirty-four seconds.

Steph’s voice was quiet. “I understand. But Jay, let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Jason flinched as the gallery’s alarms finally lit up, screaming into the night. “Jay?!” Steph yelled, alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” He snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket, both hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel as three figures barrelled out of the gallery and into the car. He peeled away from the curb, foot heavy on the gas as he swerved between cars and around corners, imagining Mask in front of him with every startled scream and car horn, picturing him crushed under the wheels with every bump over a curb. He hardly noticed the ringing in his ears over the pounding rage, the forgotten earbuds clattering against the door when he whipped around a corner.

Later that night, Mask counted out a full cut of the profits and handed the entire duffle to Jason. He took it without looking up and they headed to the elevator. “Nice driving, Baby,” Mask said as they descended to the parking garage. “Nearly down to your previous times before the cops caught wind.”

_And all it took was imagining your skull under my wheels_ , Jason thought. He didn’t say anything.

The elevator stopped and they stepped out. Jason hesitated despite his desire to bolt, to get as far away from Mask as possible. The man usually dismissed him, and Jason didn’t want to risk a misstep. He was already on thin ice. Mask snapped his fingers in front of Jason’s face and he looked up, meeting the man’s narrowed eyes. “I’ve got another job lined up,” he said. “Two days from now.”

Jason nodded robotically. “I’ll be there.”

“Bit of a different assignment,” Mask said. Jason didn’t know why he was telling him this, and he eyed the man warily. Mask was notoriously closed-mouth about his operations. “You’ll be driving me. I have a meeting that might get...hairy and I’ll need a good driver in case it does.”

Jason couldn’t breathe around the lump in his throat.

Mask clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “Come early and we’ll get you in uniform. Got it?”

It was like someone else was puppeting Jason’s body, moving him through the motions while his mind drifted. “Yes sir,” he said.

“Good boy.” Mask turned away, waving a hand dismissively. “Go home, get some rest. You’ll need to be at the top of your game.”

“Yes sir,” Jason rasped, shrugging the strap of the duffle bag higher on his shoulder and walking out of the parking garage.

He didn’t go straight home. He couldn’t, not with the bag of money. He hadn’t told his mom and he wasn’t planning on it. She was so proud of him, so happy that he was finally putting Mask behind him. He couldn’t bear the way she would look at him if she knew. Jason rested his forehead against the rough, crumbling brick in an alley and fought back the tears stinging his eyes. It was his fault he was in this position, and he wasn't going to make her suffer for his mistakes. Who knew if the news would set her back, waste all their hard work and send her spiraling? No. He could carry this burden alone.

Jason sniffed hard, dashing at his eyes with the back of his hand, and grabbed the fire escape, climbing hand over hand with the duffle swinging beside him. The vent in the west corner hadn’t worked in years, and it was the perfect place to hide things. Usually it was just a small go bag, only things he could afford to lose, but now he tucked a few stacks into his pockets and pushed the whole duffle inside. Some quick work with his pocket knife on the rusted-out screws holding the cover down and it looked like it hadn’t been touched since the building was last up to code.

Jason took a deep breath of the slightly less smoggy air up on the rooftop, shoving all of his fear and grief and uncertainty down and locking it behind bars of calm. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool. _They're coming for me_ , his ipod sang. _Tell me do I need to be my own hero?_ Jason scowled, changing the song and reaching for the fire escape. He had always had to save himself. This time was no different.

A beam of light shot into the sky and Jason’s neck hurt from how fast his head snapped up. It was just the Bat-signal, and Jason stared at it for a long moment, a strange clenching in his stomach. Wasn’t this the sort of thing the bats were supposed to deal with? He had heard stories of business cards handed out to thugs, certificates for food, a name to ask for at a local clinic to get free care. He didn’t believe them most of the time. He had never seen any good from the bats, had taken to the streets himself to keep people not as lucky as him fed. But right now...right now Jason wished heroes were real. Because he could really use one right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure those of you who have seen the movie saw this coming. For those of you that haven't....sorry >:)


End file.
